Tear Me Down
by lillypilly11
Summary: On the worst night of Elena's life, the last thing she wants is Damon there. But there he inevitably is. Damon/Elena with background Stefan/Elena and Stefan/Katherine. Epilogue now added.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Notes: This is a future scenario I could see playing out, a way for Elena and Damon to come together. Kind of puts Stefan in the position of the bad guy, unfortunately, but hopefully not to the point of character-bashing._

_Title is from 'All I Need' by Within Temptation, also known as the song Damon and Elena dance to in the Miss Mystic Falls episode._

_This is a oneshot, split in two chapters for ease of reading. There might be a short epilogue forthcoming, though, we'll see how that goes..._

* * *

Her hands pressed over her mouth to keep from making a sound, to keep from _breathing_, she backed away through the trees and the thick brush. Through the shock, some small part of her told her to preserve her safety, and that meant being quiet. It meant not screaming, or crying, or doing anything but moving away with quick, light footsteps.

The rational part of her not concerned with survival told her he had to have known she was there.

Stefan, he hadn't shown it, but he must have known, on some level, that she was watching as he... But he didn't stop, didn't push Katherine away, didn't call to Elena, rush to her side to protect her, didn't run after her when she turned and fled.

No one was coming after her, she decided after a few minutes barely daring to breathe as she picked her way through the dark woods. Steadily she made her way away from the ruins of the old church where she had gone to find Stefan, to get to him before Katherine did. The proof of her failure was now burned into her retinas, the image of Stefan and Katherine twined around each other inescapable.

Suddenly she stopped being careful, her path through the trees taking her in the general direction of where she'd left her car, but other than that she could have been going anywhere, running from anything. The tears welling in her eyes weren't helping, obscuring her vision as she crashed through the undergrowth unmindful of the noise she was making or the branches that caught at her clothes and hair.

She should have seen it coming. He'd changed recently, he'd started hiding what he was thinking, what he was feeling. She'd felt him pulling away from her, but she had attributed that to his desire to protect her from Katherine. It had honestly never occurred to her that it might be because he was being lured away. That he might be letting himself be lured...

Stefan had been her rock. She didn't know what she was going to do, and at the desolate thought she choked on a sob, not letting it past her lips. She refused to cry because at least she knew what she was doing in the here and now, and that was finding her way back to her damn car, and not getting lost in the middle of the woods in the middle of the night. Especially on _this_ night, she reminded herself, sparing a glance up at the full moon just visible through the leaves overhead. Great plan, Elena, she thought, trying to focus on not falling on her face rather than the scene she had just witnessed. Or her broken heart.

Blinking her eyes clear was an effort but she managed it, and as she peered ahead through the darkness what she saw stopped her cold. Someone was there, she could see movement through the trees and could hear the footsteps now that her own had halted. Whoever it was was almost on top of her already.

She sucked in a breath ready to scream, sure it was her, Katherine, come to finish her now she had what she wanted. But then she blinked in surprise and what came out was, "Damon."

"Elena."

He rushed forward, taking her by the shoulder. He somehow managed to look pissed and relieved at the same time. Her emotions mirrored his, her relief at seeing him instead of some nightmare competing with anger at having to deal with him right now.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, pulling back from his touch in order to continue on her way.

"Are you kidding?" He chased her steps. "Elena have you chanced to look up at the sky this fine evening? Who knows how many members of the esteemed Lockwood Kennels pedigree are roaming around off-leash tonight? Plus, you know, Katherine." The flippancy dropped from his voice suddenly. "You're going to get killed."

"No, _you_ are going to get killed. Any werewolves out here aren't going to be chasing me. And don't worry. Katherine's got her hands full right now."

"Well I can be out of here and back home sipping a nice hot toddy in under a minute, while you're still wandering around out here in the dark like some moron who couldn't find her own ass with both hands. Your car's that way, in case you care."

She took a breath but held back the retort, mutely angling the way he was pointing. She hadn't been that far off, she would still have hit the road. Eventually. It was hardly dark at all actually, the full moon was bright, even through the thick foliage.

"You still haven't said what you're doing out here," she reminded him.

"I argued with Stefan. Told him he was on his own if he went after Katherine like an idiot, so obviously a trap, but -"

"You knew what he was doing?"

"You didn't?" She didn't reply and he shrugged. "Anyway. I had one of those annoying little moments where I, what do you keep insisting on calling it? Oh yeah, 'caring'. I couldn't let him storm off all frowny-faced like that. When I found you out here I kind of assumed you had the same half-assed plan as me. What'd I miss?"

She looked sideways at him, reluctant to tell him. Better that he know, she decided grimly. "I got a message, I thought it was from Stefan... now I assume it was from her. It said he was going to meet her out here, she was ready to make a deal. I wanted to catch Stefan before he got there, but I was too late. Way too late. I saw him - them - I saw them..." She couldn't bring herself to finish.

"What, together?" The look on her face was apparently all the confirmation he needed. "I - well, gross, for one thing."

"Shut up, Damon. I don't need your stupid jokes right now."

"Come on, you know he was just playing her. All part of baby bro's master plan."

"Do you know that? I don't. We did _not_ discuss him _screwing_ that evil -" This time she cut herself off deliberately. "Why are you defending him? You know what, I don't care. Look, there's the road, I'm fine. You can go."

"A gentleman always sees the pathetic, helpless chick back to her car. Come on, it might prefer me, and who wouldn't, but you'd still make one tasty little morsel for the big bad wolf."

"You'd know."

He just laughed; her heart hurt to hear it. This was just another night of mayhem and excitement for Damon, meanwhile her whole world had fallen out from beneath her feet. But she couldn't cry yet. When she got home, she told herself, then she could cry. And scream, and rage, and throw things. But mostly cry.

She didn't speak, holding everything in so tightly she couldn't risk letting anything out, not even to tell Damon to get lost again. They reached the road in silence, and there was her car. Damon had led her straight to it. Funny she hadn't doubted that he would, just as she'd known he wouldn't leave her alone out here no matter what she said.

"Thank you," she bit out. "Now I guess you can go check on your brother. Make sure she hasn't... ripped his head off after mating." She was going for dry sarcasm but what came out was a shaky little child's voice on the verge of tears.

"Hey," he went to touch her arm but she sidestepped, moving quickly to the car while digging in her pocket for her keys.

"Don't. Just, please go, okay?"

"You first."

She rolled her eyes and pressed the remote button, unlocking the car. Her hand was on the door handle when it happened. She whipped around in shock as an inhuman streak stirred the air behind her, the sound of two bodies impacting reached her ears before she could even register what her eyes were seeing.

A good fifteen feet away from where he'd been standing Damon was rolling to his feet, eyes locked on those of the wolf that had ploughed into him at supernatural speed.

Elena stared in horror as the vampire and the werewolf stared each other down. The wolf was between her and Damon, and she could tell he was trying to circle around towards her, but the wolf was advancing, driving him further away. She was too scared to move, to speak, certain at any moment the animal was going to lunge at Damon and any action on her part might spur him on.

That was when she realised the werewolf's low, menacing growl was reaching her ears in stereo. An icy fist of dread closed over her pounding heart as she turned to see another wolf rounding the back of the car on huge, silent paws.

"Damon!" Her voice high with panic she called for him instinctively, knowing even as she did there was nothing he could do to help her.

She wondered briefly and perversely if it was Tyler or his uncle who was going to tear her throat out, as she stood there frozen against the side of the car.

"Get in the car, Elena," Damon said. How the hell could he sound so calm? "Now."

She couldn't. She couldn't _move_. Her hand was already fumbling behind her for the door handle, though, so apparently she could. She had to try. "What about you?"

"We both know it's me they want. I'll lead them off."

Feinting to one side, he used the second's distraction to grab a fallen branch off the ground which he hurled over the wolf that was stalking him, catching her wolf in the side of the head, demanding its attention. "Fetch, doggy," he snarled, as if feeling no fear.

It was an act. She could always tell, and right now he was every bit as scared as she was.

"Now would you kindly _get in the freaking car Elena_."

The wolf stalked past her so close she whimpered as its fur brushed her legs. But Damon was right, it was only interested in him. He was backing away from both wolves now, moving faster away into the trees, making sure their attention was on him alone.

She pulled the door open and in a panicked scramble dove inside and shut the door. In the relative safety of the car, she looked up in time to see Damon for the half-second it took to meet her eyes through the window. Then he was gone, and the wolves were gone, and she was alone.

She let out a ragged breath and looked down at her shaking hands. Her keys were fisted so tightly in her hand her palm was a mass of red indent marks - it might have hurt but she was running on adrenaline and felt only the need to escape.

A moment of clarity struck her as she looked back out once more to the woods where Damon had disappeared - Katherine had planned this. That Elena would arrive in time to witness the two of them together, with two werewolves loose in the woods, maybe even Damon's part in it all.

Damon. There was nothing she could do for him.

She couldn't follow them, and if she somehow did she couldn't help in a fight against two enormous, bloodthirsty werewolves.

She could find her way back through the woods, maybe, find Stefan and tell him Damon was in trouble. No, that was something else she couldn't do for numerous reasons. Besides, Katherine was smart, and though it was now obvious she had picked this night and this location for a reason, she wouldn't risk herself further once she'd got what she wanted.

It was out of her hands. Steeling herself against the sinking pit in her stomach, it still took her three tries fit the key in the ignition, unable to keep her hand steady.

She took calming breaths as she drove. The funny thing about fearing for your life was how it didn't last. The adrenaline always faded, the fear drained away, and an exhausted numbness took its place. By the time she pulled into her driveway the shaking had stopped and her heartbeat was back to normal, just as expected. She was practically a pro at this whole surviving life-threatening situations thing.

She turned the key, killing the engine. It was late, all was quiet, and she looked out at the house with the porch lights on, waiting for her return. She was safe. Between one breath and the next she was crying, and it was then a pathetic struggle trying to control gulping, heaving sobs as she climbed out of the car and made her way up to the porch and round to the front door.

Damon had saved her again and now he was probably dead somewhere - there was no way he could survive against both Lockwoods at once, was there? And Stefan could be out in the those woods, too, only it was more likely he was somewhere safe with _her_. She found herself fighting a sudden, brutal war against her better nature, wishing the wolves would find them.

Her mind shied away from Stefan's betrayal, returning to Damon and the danger he was in, leading the wolves away from her, making sure she escaped unharmed. She might never see him again. That could actually happen. Turning from the door, she stumbled over to the steps instead, hand clutching the railing as she sank down to sit. She wrapped her arms around herself, leaning against the bars.

Stefan-Damon, Damon-Stefan, the two brothers twisted through her thoughts, spiralling together with hate and love, loyalty and betrayal, safety and danger, they had become interchangeable, the one layered with the other till she could barely tell which was which.

The crying had long subsided and for a time she simply breathed, slowly, tearfully, and just... waited. The night couldn't last forever.


	2. Chapter 2

She saw Damon before he saw her. In the blink of an eye he was there at the bottom of the driveway, looking to where her car was parked outside the garage.

He stilled then, and his head turned unerringly to see her sitting there on the porch steps. "Hey," he greeted. He gestured up the driveway. "Just wanted to make sure you got back."

When she didn't respond he approached slowly, body language wary although his expression was as unmoved as ever.

Suddenly she was up off the stairs and moving towards him. "Oh my god. Are you okay?"

"Please. Those two wish they could take me."

She could have punched him. "_Damon._"

"I'm fine, Elena."

They stood there on the front lawn. Her eyes travelled over him, he looked dishevelled, like he'd been fighting. No surprise. There was a red line across his cheek, a scratch. "What happened? How did you get away?"

"I circled back round, tried to find Stefan and Katherine. They were gone, but one of the wolves caught the scent and took off after them, wherever they'd gone. The one that stuck around to mess with me, whoever it was he should have a few broken ribs and a nasty concussion when he wakes up human in the morning. Not gonna lie, I hope it's Uncle Mason. That guy bugs me. What?" he questioned suddenly as she stood there staring at him.

Her lips were pressed tightly together as it all welled up inside her again and she fought back a round of fresh tears, her chest starting to heave.

"Hey," he started forward, "Elena..."

"No." She shook her head. It was too much, what Stefan had done, and this, Damon, just standing there being so... _him_.

"Elena."

"No. _No."_ She threw herself at him, shoving at his chest as she yelled. "Why is it always you? Why are you always here? I don't want you, I don't, I don't!" The words were hoarse, weighed down with pain. She'd lost the love her her life tonight and he, he was just _there_, he was always there.

She was clutching at his shirt now and his arms gripped her in return, not gently, but holding her up when her knees might have given out. "I hate you," she said fiercely.

"I know," she heard him murmur. "I'm sorry."

Not for everything he'd done, she understood this by instinct, but that she was feeling all of this on his behalf. He didn't want her to hurt because of him. Of course the truth was that it wasn't him, not this time. The fight left her then, and she sagged against his chest, her face wet with hot tears pressing against his shoulder. Only then did his arms wrap around her, his hands becoming gentle now as they held her close.

Her breath hitched. "I was so scared I'd lose you, too."

"But you hate me."

"Go figure."

She almost laughed as she ran her hands up and down his arms, once, just to reassure herself of his solid presence. It took a few moments to register the slick, wet feel of his sleeve. She brought her hand away to look at it. In the porch light it glistened red. His shirt was dark, she hadn't seen the stain, and he'd been bleeding this whole time.

"Damon," she breathed, her horrified stare travelling from his bloody arm up to face. "Did you get bitten? You said you were fine."

"No, no, it's a scratch from a rock or something, when I went down." A werewolf bite was fatal to vampires. Terror gripped her and she could barely hear him, till he gave her a shake to get her to focus on him. "I didn't get bitten, I promise."

She threw off his hold. "God damn it, Damon." She scrubbed at her eyes as more tears leaked down her cheeks.

"I'm okay."

"Fine. Whatever."

He brushed past her, she turned to watch his movements as he settled on the steps that she'd recently vacated in order to throw herself at him in what had been a truly grand, messy display of emotions she didn't want to have.

"You're asking yourself why you care," he offered casually, leaning over his knees with his hands hanging down between. He didn't look at her but stared straight ahead. "You hate that you do, but you can't stop. Been there." He shrugged and corrected himself, "Am there."

Then it was easier to ease down on the steps beside him than to leave him there, go inside, and face the events of the night on her own. She didn't want to think about everything else that had happened. As long as she was with Damon, she could just think about this.

They sat there in silence for a while. She could feel him at her side, the six inches of step separating them no barrier to his marked presence. He was always there, with his annoying smirk, dangerous eyes peering out from under those over-active eyebrows...

At least he wasn't her friend any more, at least she could say that and have it be the truth.

The way she felt about him, all these inescapable feelings he provoked in her, they weren't anything she would ever feel for a friend. An enemy, maybe - definitely - that or something else entirely.

Damon seemed to have waited long enough for a response from her, because he shrugged and the silence ended. "So anyway, sorry Katherine ruined your life and everything. I guess I'll just be going."

She caught his arm, holding him back when he would have stood.

"It's easy to blame her for everything. You know I actually don't? Not completely. Because I also blame you. I blame Stefan. He brought her here. He came to this town for me, she came for him."

"And I came for shits and giggles. What's your point?"

"You want everything that's happened to be because of her." She hated it, that everything always came back to Katherine. It felt too easy to go along with it. "You were wrong, Damon, I'm nothing like her." She hadn't moved her hand from his bicep. A few minutes ago she'd practically plastered herself against him, this should have been nothing. It didn't feel like nothing. She drew her hand away, wiping suddenly sweaty palms down her thighs. "Don't look at me like that. I'm not like her. She just - she takes anything she wants. She doesn't care if she destroys it in the process, as long as it's hers."

His eyes were burning into the side of her face. She couldn't turn and meet them. But she could keep talking. "I could never do that to anyone, not to Stefan. Or to you."

She heard him exhale as the meaning of her words hit him, what she'd just admitted. That she wanted him.

Was it true? Maybe not. It was either a terrible, confusing lie, or the most honest she'd ever been. Something was wrong here, because the two truths couldn't exist beside each other: either she wasn't like Katherine, was really a good, caring person, or she wanted Damon despite everything that that would mean. Stefan. Her brother. Herself. Everything that Damon had done, everything he was. The good part of him that she wanted to preserve, that didn't deserve to be hurt, that loved her. All these things she would be disregarding if she wanted him. If she wanted him, then how was she any different from Katherine, who didn't care about anything but her own desires?

Either she was nothing like Katherine, or she wanted Damon. It couldn't be both. And yet only one of those things was arbitrary, and only one seemed to matter right now. Beside her he was holding himself still, his body thrumming with potential energy, she could feel it resonating through her across the empty inches between them. She buried her face in her hands, emitting a wordless sound of sheer frustration and despair. Then she turned to him, spanning the distance, seeking his mouth with hers.

There was no moment of hesitation, he was ready for her, moving with her, and heat bloomed between them the instant their lips met. Damon's arms curled around her, cradling her like a treasure, but his kiss was hungry, insistent, a contradiction that suited him perfectly. It definitely suited her as she opened her mouth under his with a small moan, greedy to taste him as he was her.

He rose suddenly, pulling her up with him so he could press against her, shuffling with her on the steps until the back of her thighs met the railing and they leaned there, sighing in tandem as their bodies fit together. And then all she wanted was to get closer, dragging at his arms, his back, working herself tighter into his embrace as the kiss went on and on.

His palms moved rough over her skin, her hips, her sides, her back, dislodging her shirt, fingers pushing under her waistband to brush her ass. She moaned again. It was desperate, immediate, the way she wanted him, there was no escaping it. Not even when she brought her hands up to his chest and shoved him away from her, staggering up the steps to put more distance between them.

They stood there, breathing hard, the sudden rejection painting hard lines on his face.

"Come inside," she said.

His mouth dropped open. "Uh."

Damon Salvatore, lost for words. Any other time she would have called him on it, but now it was just annoying that he wasn't keeping up with her. Brusquely she explained. "There can't be anyone home, if there was they would have come out to see what was happening before when I was screaming at you. Jenna's probably at Ric's, god knows where Jeremy is. So. Come in with me."

She turned to the door, patting her pockets and quickly realising she had no idea where her keys were. She must have dropped them an age ago when she first left the car and collapsed on the porch.

Damon was catching up fast, and his sharp eyes were already scanning the ground, in seconds locating the keys a few feet away under a chair. He scooped them up, returned to her side, and held them up dangling in front of her.

She took them, her eyes locked on his. The kissing had stopped, everything had slowed back down to normal pace, and suddenly it was real.

He wasn't smirking - some small miracle. Instead he was waiting, waiting to see what she would do, something like a dare, or maybe it was simply hope in his eyes.

Mouth set in determination she turned to unlock the door, and led the way inside.

As he followed her upstairs his fingertips brushed her back sending a shiver through her, anticipation eating away her composure. She almost turned and pulled him to her then and there but the sight that met her as she reached the top of the stairs stopped her in her tracks. There was light coming from under Jeremy's door.

"Oops," Damon said in her ear, looming behind her. "Looks like we have a chaperone."

"He must have his headphones in." There was no way he wouldn't have heard what was going on outside earlier - probably the whole neighbourhood had heard it.

"Angry teen music trumps big sister's meltdown. Think it'll drown out... other things?"

"Shut up."

She didn't even care, that was the worst part. She didn't care if Jeremy heard, if Jenna found out, if Bonnie or Caroline or Stefan, should he drag himself away from her evil twin long enough to notice, found out. She reached behind her and grabbed Damon's wrist, pulling him along towards her bedroom.

Inside, she dropped his arm and moved past the foot of the bed, hearing him shut the door behind her, feeling him watching her.

"I know you're just doing this because you're upset about Stefan," came his voice steadily.

"So leave."

"You think I care? Elena Gilbert throwing herself at me, that's a good time. Go ahead, use me for a little revenge sex, really doesn't bother me."

She turned to find him right behind her. She didn't move, just lifted her head till she could look him in the eye. "Liar."

"Well so are you if you want me to believe this is just about revenge, so, guess we're even."

She closed her eyes. She felt worn down, till there were only hard edges left. Blindly she lifted her hands till they were resting on his stomach. "You're saying I want you, Damon? That I need you?"

His finger caught her under her chin, holding her still until her eyes opened again so he could search them, his expression serious. "You need something."

She took his hand and brought it down her body, pressing it to her hip where his fingers found their way easily under the hem of her shirt, touching her skin. Gazing into his eyes she thought back to a time when he never would have believed her capable of something like that, _revenge sex_, thinking her above it. It was amazing to realise part of him still did. And more amazing to see how much he wanted to believe her when she told him, "You're right, I do. It's you."

It was all right there in his eyes. Her body responded to it like it always secretly had. Though it had never been a secret, of course, he'd always known how her pulse sped up, her skin warmed, under his gaze, his mocking, teasing words, his heightened senses telling him what she would never admit out loud.

What he didn't know was how her heart responded, that was hers alone. "Elena," he said, and it pulled at her, drew her in.

"God, Damon, just..."

"Happy to," he murmured, replying to her unvoiced plea.

Then her eyes fell shut, the connection breaking only to be replaced by another as other senses took over; the taste of him as her tongue swept through his mouth over and over again. The feel of her bare stomach pushing against his, her nipples grazing the fine hair on his chest, after their shirts were gone and her bra was somewhere on the floor and his hands were pressed warm to her back. The sound of his groan in her ear once they had fallen to the bed, his hardening length through his jeans a tantalising promise as her hips ground into his.

The groan turned into smirking words spoken against her lips. "Oooh hell yes, this is so happening."

His breath was slightly sweet. And it was just like Stefan's. Did all vampires taste the same, or just brothers? The thought occurred to her like a voice intruding on a dream.

"What?" he questioned, his hands stilling on her body. "Too sure of myself? Sorry, most girls find it hot."

She licked her lips, which were swollen from kissing him. This was happening, she reminded herself.

"If I say no, tell you I don't want you, are you going to go down the hall and kill my brother again?"

From merely holding still against her now he turned to stone. The look in his eyes almost had her apologising. But there was no running away from it, no way to atone, only to acknowledge what it meant for her that she was doing this. She could see when he realised this, too, the unspoken apology falling away from his lips.

"Are you going to say no?" he asked.

She shook her head slowly. "No."

His hand moved then, fingers brushed lightly down her breastbone, trailing over her stomach with teasing delicacy. "The kid likes me, you know. No idea why."

She snorted. "There's a lot of that going around."

Then he grinned at her, and she found herself matching it. This was happening.

Suddenly his mouth was following the path his fingers had taken down her body, mouth dragging over the plane of her abdomen, chin grazing her navel. His fingers deftly popped the button on her jeans before his palm was skimming down her thigh. He sat up and reached down to her feet, removing her shoes and socks with quick, efficient movements while kicking his own off over the side of the bed. Then just as smoothly he was back, his hand travelling up the inside of her leg, fingers dancing along the inner seam of her jeans.

He was half-way up from her knee when he paused. "What?" He had looked up to find her propped on her elbows, observing him, mouth twisting in amusement.

"You're a player."

His sudden laugh was genuine, though it rapidly transitioned to a much-practised leer. "Oh, you have no idea."

"I'm about to." She lay back as he shifted over her again. "You've got quite a reputation to uphold."

"Please," he scoffed, settling his weight over her, "I don't even think I'll bother bringing my 'A' game, how would you know? You're seventeen, and you've got that Matt kid and my brother to compare to, hardly tough competition."

"Don't."

"Hm? Oops, mentioned the 'S' word. Or the 'B' word in this case. My bad."

At his brevity she stiffened under him, hands tightening on his arms, but he quickly caught them in his, pressing her wrists flat against the mattress. Lowering his head, his teeth grazed her collar bone and she gasped, pinned beneath him like a fly to a board. It made her blood race, she was writhing under his touch as he rubbed his entire body against hers, his breath hot on her throat.

Breathlessly she said, "Just don't talk about him. I don't want to think about him."

He chuckled against her skin. "You won't."

It shouldn't have been so easy to believe him, but then his mouth covered her nipple and his hand slid inside her jeans, and it just was.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Notes: And here's the epilogue; thanks for reading!_

* * *

Reality did not come crashing back down, rudely ejecting her from the warm intimacy of night and into the cold light of morning in one decisive blow. Instead, reality crept back in slowly, starting around the time she found herself sneaking into the bathroom in nothing but Damon's t-shirt to gulp water straight from the tap.

All the crying earlier followed by, well, all the sex, had left her incredibly dehydrated. Once the thirst issue had been addressed she looked up and caught her eyes in the mirror. She looked terrible, her hair a tangled mess, her face blotchy, her eyes bloodshot. She made a futile attempt to smooth down her hair but gave up with a weary laugh, turning back to her bedroom where she had left him sprawled shamelessly naked amidst tangled covers.

"Take that off," he ordered lazily. "It's going to start to smell all girly and... like you."

"Sorry." She collapsed onto the bed beside him. "You want it, you can -" she began, but he was already manoeuvring her, dragging the t-shirt up and off over limp arms and head to the sound of a few token protests.

He remained sitting up, recovered garment in his lap, while she found a pillow to bury her face in.

"Sun's coming up," he commented.

"Yeah."

Little by little, there it was, reality returning like the grey light of early morning stealing through the room.

"Don't," she mumbled, her hand curling round his arm, and he lay back down, his head claiming a space on her pillow, nose inches from her own. "Stay."

"And where would I be going?"

"You know where. To find Stefan and Katherine. I don't want that."

"What do you want?"

"I want sleep. And you - you should sleep, too. Don't lie there watching me, it's creepy. And don't leave. Promise."

"You talk like a girl very used to getting everything she wants."

"Not even close." She sighed heavily, her eyes closing. Sleep pulled at her.

"Me either."

She felt light fingertips tracing her face and she took his hand and held it tucked under her chin.

Her alarm woke her at seven-thirty as usual, and she blinked grainy eyes, unable to tell if he had slept as well, only that he was still there. Good enough, she thought, as she pushed herself up.

She scrounged for sweats and a tank top as he gathered his discarded clothes from the floor and dressed beside her.

"You know I'm gonna tell him," he said like a challenge when they reached her doorway.

"I will," she corrected him. "It should be me. I want to."

"Can I watch?"

She smacked his chest as she cracked open the door, then paused, looking back at him. "Can you hear anyone up?"

"You only want me for my vampire skills, is that it?"

She rolled her eyes. "Wait here."

She crept downstairs, on alert for any signs of life. She'd just reached the bottom of the stairs, about to hiss for Damon to come down so she could shove him out the front door, when Jeremy wandered in from the living room.

She froze for a second before schooling her reaction. "Jeremy, hi, I didn't know you'd be up so early. Uh, do you know if Jenna came home last night?"

"You mean, is she going to catch you sneaking Damon out of your bedroom?"

Elena stared at him, caught wide-eyed and red-handed.

"That's exactly what she means, Jer," Damon supplied, making his way down the stairs now that his cover was clearly blown, and just as clearly enjoying himself.

Seeing him, suspicions confirmed, Jeremy laughed shortly in disbelief. He shook his head at her. "Pretty sure Jenna's at Ric's. You are so lucky she isn't here to see this."

Just to be as difficult as possible, Damon draped himself over her shoulder as he spoke. "So let me get this straight, you're jonesing to tell Stefan all about it, and let's face it, the resulting explosion is going to be colossal, seriously I can't wait. Gonna be great. Meanwhile we'd better keep it a secret from sweet Aunt Jenna, or else you'll get in trouble?"

She ignored the needling about his brother. "Oh, it won't be me who gets in trouble, Damon. As if she didn't hate you enough already."

"Man, and I was just getting back in her good books."

"Uh, no you weren't," Jeremy said.

"Yeah, no," Elena agreed. "That really wasn't happening. Ever."

Damon shrugged. "Cool, I always did my best work as the asshole bad influence, anyway."

"Do you want some coffee? I could really use some coffee," she said, giving him a pointed look as she slid out from under his arm.

He pretended not to understand, smiling politely between her and her brother, finally rolling his eyes when she continued the look.

"Oh fine. Good luck explaining this one." He sauntered away towards the kitchen.

Reluctantly she turned her attention to Jeremy.

"I..." How _was_ she supposed to explain this? "Jeremy."

"Seriously, Elena?"

"It just happened. No, that's not true, I... wanted it to. I don't... really know if there's any way for it to be okay, I just..." She spread her hands helplessly.

Jeremy shook his head. He didn't seem upset, just thoughtful, as he twisted the ring on his finger and finally slid it off, holding it up for her to see.

"You know, I keep thinking of ways to get you to take this ring instead of me. I know you won't, no matter what I try. And even with it on I know I can't protect you." He shrugged, and his head tilted towards the direction of the kitchen. "Think he can? 'Cause if so..."

"Jer..."

"He's still a dick."

"A dick who can hear every word you're saying!" Damon's voice called out to them.

Jeremy leant closer, face bordering on incredulous. "Seriously?" he said again.

All she could do was offer up a shrug. But Jeremy was more amused than anything, and she felt a knot of guilt begin to come loose in her chest, something she had been holding inside her for a long time now. Because this thing with Damon, whatever it was, it had not just happened overnight.

"Thank you," she said sincerely, knowing Jeremy would understand what she meant.

"Come on," he lead the way towards the kitchen, "Damon's going to make us breakfast."

"Now why would Damon do something like that?" Damon said as they entered. He was lounging by the sink with a mug in hand. "Isn't he kind of a dick?"

Her brother's eyes slid towards her. "I don't know, stranger things have happened, man."

"Tell me about it," she muttered, and then she and Jeremy took seats at the island while Damon moved to the refrigerator attempting to seem put out about the whole thing, though nobody was buying it.

Out on the porch, after breakfast, the two of them paused together. She wasn't quite ready to go back inside and prepare for school, he wasn't ready to go home and find out what had become of his brother.

But it was only a moment.

Unlike the last time she'd been out here, mere hours ago, she felt as if she could actually face the world again - her world, and what had become of it. And a lot of that, most of that, was due to the man standing next to her looking like he was considering kissing her goodbye but was worried it would be too weird. Which, he was probably right about that, but she wouldn't mind if he did it anyway.

"Well," she said, looking up into his waiting eyes, "I don't hate you."


End file.
